Her Dratted Corset
by Pariaritzia
Summary: Mr Darcy has a suspiciously thorough knowledge of undergarments. Women's undergarments, to be precise.


**The rating is thanks to mentions of undergarments and women of…the petticoat line. (Cue sideways glance.) And for mentions of the love of man and wife, which I apologise for if that offends anyone.**

**I own nothing related to P&P.**

**Bonne lecture.**

If not for her dratted corset, Elizabeth might never have discovered it.

Elizabeth had never understood the point of her corset. As a girl of the countryside she had grown lean and brown, and thus had no need for a waist-restricting garment—indeed, a garment that augmented the area _above_ her waist might prove more sensible. When, at the age of thirteen, she had tried to argue this point with her mother, Mrs Bennet had, in that way peculiar to her, overridden her daughter's claims with dire warnings and tales of woe, all completely unrelated to the matter at hand, accompanied by much tightening of the already obstructive corset, and bound to end with the phrase, "Oh, Hill, I shall go distracted with this child!"

Another consequence of the countryside was a dearth of male company, something Kitty and Lydia had felt more keenly than Elizabeth or Jane; yet after the first night with her husband, Elizabeth thought that her youngest sisters may have had a right to be frustrated.

The lack of male company led to a lack of knowledge regarding the sex as a whole, and this lack of knowledge led to some natural confusion, which can be appreciated in the following conversation, which took place between Elizabeth and Jane some four weeks after the wedding.

After listening to Jane sing Bingley's praises for an hour, Elizabeth interrupted her sister to broach a rather sensitive subject. As they were alone in Jane's bedroom, she was quite blunt and slightly irreverent about the topic, and Jane promptly blushed.

"Lizzy!" she said, thought she sounded less emphatic than she would have liked. "Lizzy, how could you—it isn't really proper to ask."

"So you _do_ enjoy it," said Elizabeth, her eyes sparkling. "I thought as much. Mr Bingley seems to be a most attentive husband."

"Oh, Lizzy, _do_ stop."

"Were you frightened, at first?" Elizabeth continued conversationally, disregarding Jane's request. "You must admit our mother did little to reassure us."

Jane's blush deepened. "I am sure—that our mother did—her best," she faltered.

"You are too good, Jane," said Elizabeth, grinning. "I don't doubt you gleaned much from her lecture of farm animals. _Just follow the horses' lead, daughters!_" she trilled.

"Hush!" said Jane, finally succumbing to giggles. "Oh, Lizzy—I must confess I had no idea what to expect, especially when I had no recourse but the horses! But you are right, Charles was very sweet about it."

"Hm" was all Elizabeth said, fiddling with the end of the duvet.

"Is there a reason you mentioned it?" asked Jane curiously after a moment. "Mr Darcy is not unkind to you, is he?"

"Oh no, certainly not," said Elizabeth, with her usual quicksilver smile. "Mr Darcy feels he has mistreated me so often before our marriage that it would be quite unnecessary to do anything now but care for me as divinely as possible." She paused. "There is, however, something I should like to discuss with some seriousness."

"I am all ears, Lizzy."

"Yes, of course…" She brought up her legs to sit cross-legged on the bed. For a moment she felt as if Messrs Darcy and Bingley did not even exist, that she and Jane were yet again sharing their room, their home, and their secrets. "Jane, did Mr Bingley seem…" She trailed off, for once unsure of herself. "I suppose…conversant…of the fact?"

"Conversant?" echoed Jane.

"Yes. Did he seem to know what to do?"

"Well—I rather think so. But would that not be normal, for a man of his age and temperament?" She turned pink once more. "I am not so foolish as to expect to have had him only to myself, nor keep him indefinitely."

"Don't be so infuriatingly _modest_, Jane," Elizabeth teased, temporarily distracted. "Your Mr Bingley hardly knows other women exist. They are there merely as your foils, to accentuate your perfection and loveliness." She turned serious again. "But I suppose you are right on the first count. Mr Bingley would have had some previous experience in the matter."

"And I do not begrudge him that," Jane interjected, in her usual forgiving manner. "He is mine now, after all. He did not marry those other women."

"I do believe that is the most unkind word that has ever come out of your mouth, barring what you said of Miss Bingley after your engagement," said Elizabeth, laughing. "Oh, come, don't look so embarrassed. Here, I shall tell you my true dilemma and relieve you of your confusion." She stopped, looking strangely embarrassed herself. "Do you…does Mr Darcy strike you as the same sort?"

"Mr Darcy! I would think him far too reserved for such…well."

"That is what I thought as well," Elizabeth agreed, "yet he seemed very—"

"Confident?"

"Wise," she finished, a troubled expression overwhelming her customary carefree mien. "I had expected that I must tell him of the intricacies of my dress the morning after the wedding, so we would not be compelled to call in the maid, but he laced up my corset and helped me with my buttons as easily as a man who has been married for a decade or more." She bit her lip. "I cannot be as unselfish as you, Jane, though I suppose I have no choice but to be—yet I am genuinely surprised. I would never have thought him to know of such matters, nor to be so well-versed in them."

"I should think that it is not uncommon for a man to be worldly," said Jane, taking Elizabeth's hands and holding them tightly, "and Mr Darcy is near thirty, is he not?"

"Yes, but…"

"Don't worry yourself so, Lizzy. If you are so determined that Charles would stay faithful to me, only the same can be said of Mr Darcy."

Elizabeth was silent for a minute, then looked up, shaking her head and laughing once.

"You are right," she said, returning her sister's grasp. "I am afraid that marriage has turned me foolish. What say you, Jane? Shall I go distracted?"

Jane admonished her for the jibe, but Elizabeth only laughed again and began to talk of other, lighter subjects.

.^.

But her dratted _corset_!

How could a man be so skilled in the tying of one? With each passing day Elizabeth owned that Mr Darcy laced it up faster than before, yet he could not possibly have gained so much practice merely with her own garments! Their newlywed state and his character decreased the likelihood of a current intrigue, which left only the possibility of a large amount of prior experience.

But from where? And with whom? In town he may have had a particular, though the notion of Mr Darcy—her Mr Darcy—with a _particular_—quite frankly, it was laughable! Elizabeth would sooner accuse Jane of scorn or her mother of sense than think of her husband as the sort who dallied in the petticoat line.

She tried to follow Jane's advice and put the matter from her mind. It was made easier with Georgiana's company; her new younger sister, while at first alarmed by Elizabeth's lively ways, had taken quickly to the newest member of the household, and often spent time with Lizzy whenever she could.

One afternoon the two women went on a picnic on the grounds of Pemberley. Mr Darcy did not attend the luncheon, due to the existence of a rather intimidating stack of paperwork that awaited him in his study; when told this, Elizabeth, much to Georgiana's mingled amusement and astonishment, had laughingly informed him that they would only enjoy themselves all the more without his drear countenance, and that paperwork suited him far more than a picnic did, anyway.

After the ensuing banter (Mr Darcy had gained a more flexible sense of humour after his marriage, and Georgiana a smaller quantity of timidity), the sisters ventured out to find a nice spot to eat.

"There is a lovely pond behind the hill by which we could dine," suggested Georgiana.

"Lead the way, captain," said Elizabeth, hoisting the basket and saluting.

The pond was as clear as the sky and refreshingly cool; before setting out their spread the women removed their slippers and stockings and dipped their feet in the water.

"This is wonderful," Georgiana remarked, wriggling her toes. "We could never have done this with my brother around."

"Of course we could have," said Elizabeth, watching a small fish come and nudge curiously at her ankle. "Or is it too scandalous for a man to see the ankles of his own wife and sister?"

Georgiana blushed. "Well—it would be a little strange for me to be here, if he saw you so…"

"Ill-attired?" Elizabeth laughed. "I suppose you have a point. _You_ might have still done this, though. There is no shame in seeing a sister's ankles."

"No…" She swirled her feet, smiling. "And he has seen them before, after all. Fitzwilliam was much help to me when I was growing up."

Elizabeth tilted her head. "How do you mean?"

"I have never been especially graceful," she said, a little embarrassed. "I have learnt to be more at ease with myself, but when I was twelve I was terribly clumsy. As a result I was averse to the usual feminine trappings, which only served to make me more uncomfortable."

"I can comprehend that," said Elizabeth feelingly. "My own experience with women's garments has been a long one. Most certainly my corset."

Georgiana blushed. "I confess, I despised my corset for many weeks. I could not understand the point of it. I have always been a little tall for my age, but never shapely. And my old governess would tie the strings so tightly! As if she meant to have me hanged by my waist!"

Elizabeth laughed again. "My mother was the same, I assure you!"

"I had quite given up hope of ever growing accustomed to it," the younger woman continued, "until, that is, Fitzwilliam returned from a trip to town, and supplanted my governess's post."

This news gave Elizabeth pause. "Supplanted her post?" she repeated, startled.

"Oh, she remained as my teacher," said Georgiana, "but Fitzwilliam would help me dress instead! Of course, I would have most of my garments on already—it would not be decent otherwise—but he would help me with my corset and, sometimes, my hair." She giggled. "It was quite funny. He had not the slightest idea what to do, but that made me feel much better about my own confusion."

Suddenly everything became quite clear. "So he would help you dress," repeated Elizabeth wonderingly. "That explains…I see."

"You will not tell anyone, will you?" asked Georgiana, suddenly anxious. "I realise that it is an unusual practice, but Fitzwilliam is so much older than I am, and so very kind, and more like a father to me than a brother. I thought you would not find it terribly peculiar. And the practice did not continue for long; after a month I was quite used to my corset, and could stand to have a maid tie it for me."

"Oh no," said Elizabeth, smiling. "I don't find it at all peculiar that a brother would help his sister in such a manner. Though I must admit, anything that grants generosity and goodwill to Mr Darcy is scarcely believed by myself."

To this Georgiana could only offer a protest and several accounts of his good qualities; Elizabeth, assuring her sister of her utmost affection, laughed once more and beckoned her towards the food.

"Enough of corsets!" she cried. "From corsets to custard, I should think! Have some of these tarts, Georgiana, I own they are the most exquisite I have ever tasted…"

**The pond mentioned has no relation whatsoever to that ridiculous pond scene used in the BBC P&P. I also don't know when girls would start wearing corsets, but twelve or thirteen sounded about right.**

**On a slightly unrelated note, I just read Cotillion, by Georgette Heyer, and was wanting to write fanfic for it, but I realised that very few people seem to write for that category. Are any of you interested? Do very many people read her work? Because Ms Heyer is very, very good, even (dare I say it) better than Ms Austen…**


End file.
